


Disguise Training

by anthonyofawesome



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket
Genre: Angst, Caligari Carnival, Everything is bad and Everyone is suffering, F/M, Lemony Snicket - mention, Montgomery Montgomery - mention, Netflix series non compliant, One Shot, Past Relationship(s), Sexual Situations, V.F.D., book!Olivia, i wrote this fic out of spite, no graphic description of sex, notp to otp, post schism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-29 16:24:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17206832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anthonyofawesome/pseuds/anthonyofawesome
Summary: “If Count Olaf or one of his henchmen steps inside and asks me where the Baudelaires are, I tell them. If Jacques Snicket or another volunteer steps inside and asks me if his brother is alive, I tell them.”Olivia and Jacques reunite one evening.





	Disguise Training

**Author's Note:**

> What the hell did Netflix do to Olivia Caliban? You can't just change literally every aspect of a character and just slap on a name as an afterthought, to make them fit into the story? The real Olivia was important? Am I crazy? Anyway, it has been 9 months since season 2 dropped and I am still shook about it. This fic came out of the feeling that I needed to do something about this injustice. It took a while, and I'd be stalling forever but I needed to get this out before season 3 kills me on impact. Look, I just did this for fun, I never even considered this pairing before, but it's definitely been an interesting experience. I hope you enjoy it. And, in the style of the big man himself, if you are interested in readings stories about Netflix series Jacques/Olivia, you'd be better off reading some other fic.

_“If Count Olaf or one of his henchmen steps inside and asks me where the Baudelaires are, I tell them._

_If Jacques Snicket or another volunteer steps inside and asks me if his brother is alive, I tell them.”_

 

Jacques heard the crunch of the gravel under his feet as he got out of his taxi. The sound felt out of place. Caligari Carnival was a liminal space, a mirage in the middle of nowhere in the Hinterlands. The air was dry and smelled like stale popcorn. Jacques breathed it in. It had been a long time.

The parking lot was next to the gift caravan, a strategic placement so the carnival could catch patrons right as they were coming and going. It was worn down and falling apart. It had always been like that. Many years ago he had stayed in that caravan with his brother, Lemony. He paused and took a moment to ground himself. He pressed on.

“Don’t get lost, Snicket,” he said to himself.

The fortune-teller’s tent was a large foreboding structure, made of black and purple cloth connected to a small caravan at the back. Across the entrance flap was an image that to regular onlookers appeared to be an eye. Jacques knew it as an insignia. Three letters: V. F. D. Once upon a time those letters used to be comforting; it was a sign of a noble person, a member of a fraternity working to fight fires and ignorance across the world. But they had been corrupted by villains and people who don’t return books on time and now everything was uncertain.

He took a deep breath, and rang the bell. Almost immediately a woman emerged. They took each other in for a moment. She spoke first, in a strange false accent.

“Mr. Snicket, welcome. Please, come in.” She spoke in her usual fake accent and gave him a smile that could have meant anything. He followed her inside.

“For what reason have you to see Madame Lulu?” She sat at her crystal ball. He sat across from her and took off his hat. He had a look in his eyes. One she had never seen in him before.

“Is my brother alive?”

She eyed him. “It’s late for reading, but for Mr. Snicket, she make exception.” She closed her eyes and stroked the air around the crystal ball thematically. “Crystal ball says Snicket brother still out there.”

Jacques grabbed her arm, halting her performance. “Olivia, please.”

She sighed and unraveled her turban, revealing her long blonde hair. “I don’t know,” she admitted. Her natural voice was soft and gentle. “I’ve found no evidence that he’s alive.” Jacques’ face fell.

“But,” she added quickly pull a file out from under her table, “there’s not much evidence that he’s dead, either. Other than the obituary in the Daily Punctilio.” She fingered a newspaper clipping. “But we all know that’s a less-than-trustworthy source.”

“So there’s nothing?”

“I’m sorry, Jacques.” There was a weight to her apology.

“It’s no fault of yours,” he said.

Someone who did not know Jacques Snicket well might not have noticed the small hitch in his breath, the slight squint of his eyes, or the tension in his neck, but she had training in reading people. And she knew Jacques Snicket very well. She moved to kneel beside him and put her hand on his shoulder.

“Everything’s unraveling, Liv.” The crack in his voice betrayed him even further.

“I know.”

There wasn’t much else she could say.  Jacques leaned back and tried to compose himself, wiping away a few lone tears. She pulled her arm back.

“Maybe...I shouldn’t have come here,” he said, as if suddenly realizing where he was. She didn’t respond to that, but she couldn’t hide the fact that it hurt.

He finally looked her in the eyes. He looked guilty. “I’m sorry...but can I trust you?”

She stood. “Why did you come here then?”

“I mean….can you tell me honestly that you won’t tell people I was here if they ask? Don’t you ‘give the people what they want’?”

“Why did you come here?”

Jacques shook his head. “I guess...I wanted to believe…”

“That Lemony is still alive.”

“Yes. And that...you might want to—”

“Well, we both have flawed philosophies then.”

“You were once a noble volunteer. You could be that again.”

“Wicked, noble...it doesn’t matter anymore! Everything is splintering and I’m just trying to survive.”

“You can survive and be a good person!”

She laughed darkly. “Well, it doesn’t look like it, does it?”

That wounded him. She felt awful, but she did not regret saying it. It was the truth.

“I’m scared, Jacques. The things I hear, the information I collect, it scares me. If I play both sides, if I am useful...I have a better chance of not being targeted. It’s a harem-scarem world. And I’m not like you, Jacques. I’m just not strong enough.”

“We are stronger when we are standing together.” There was a pause. “I would _never_ let anything happen to you,” he added softly. They were face to face now. The air between them was electric.

“Would you like a drink?” she asked. He nodded and followed her into the back caravan.

They drank in silence at first. Olivia felt Jacques might be too far from her now, that any moment he would up and leave. But, he finished his drink and held out his glass for a refill. Before long they both mellowed and began talking and laughing like old friends again, as if the cruel world outside didn’t exist and they weren’t bogged down by the series of unfortunate events that was their lives.

“Remember that time Monty tried to rescue that alligator from the zoo?” Olivia said, “Because he thought she was unhappy?”

Jacques smiled. “He had her living in a bathtub on the fourth floor for a whole week before they caught him.”

“Yes!” Olivia laughed. “And Lemony went in to brush his teeth that night and nearly pissed himself!” Jacques’ expression saddened. Olivia sat up. “Oh my god, Jacques, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize!” he insisted. “It’s good. To remember him. Especially when he was younger and happy. Well, not happy, but…

“But that was a part of his charm. He always had a flair for the dramatic. He would have made a top actor, if he wasn’t so quiet,” she chuckled. “Our little Lemoncholy…”

“I just wish I could have done more for him.”

“You did the best you could. You watched out for him and for so many volunteers.”

“But all those times I could have stepped in…”

Olivia moved closer to him. “Don’t do that to yourself, Jacques. You were everyone’s hero, especially Lemony’s. Besides, you can’t fix what’s done.”

Jacques laughed. “I can try.”

“Darling.” She put her hand on his cheek. “Please treat yourself kindly. It’s the least that you deserve.”

Jacques stared at her for a moment. His expression was unreadable, as always, and as always that made her insecure. She desperately tried to think of something to break the tension. She didn’t have to. In that moment, he leaned in and kissed her. It was warm and familiar, even after all that time. He pulled away.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

Olivia responded by pulling him back in and kissing him deeply, running her fingers through his hair just like she used to do. They broke apart, gasping.

“Do you want to?” she asked breathlessly. Jacques nodded. They moved toward the bed, dropping clothing along the way, her unbuttoning his shirt, him unzipping her dress. Soon they were completely free of their disguises, and nothing mattered but the pure emotion they were experiencing. They spent the night together in her bed.

When Jacques awoke the next morning Olivia was already up and back in her Madame Lulu disguise. “Wake up, please. Madame Lulu has morning customers.”

His heart sank. “Liv. Please.”

“Madame Lulu has no time for pleases, please.” Her accent was even more grating thanks to his budding hangover. He hurriedly redressed. Madame Lulu took no time in ushering him toward the exit.

“Madame Lulu thanks you for stopping by Caligari Carnival, please. Do tell friends.” Jacques rolled his eyes. “Olivia, stop.” She did, but she looked at him sternly.

“The day has begun, please.”

“Just listen to me. You don’t have to stay on this path. You have other options. You could come with me. We could leave right now and you would never have to worry about this run-down old place ever again.”

She shook her head, dropping the act for a moment. “You’re too good, Jacques. I could never keep up.”

He shook his head. “No, Olivia. That’s not…” She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.

“Goodbye, Jacques.”

It was barely a whisper, but he heard it. He reached down and kissed her hand.

“Goodbye, Olivia.”

He put on his hat, hesitating for a moment before he left, hoping she would change her mind. She didn’t. (She would, much later—but too late to change Jacques’ fate.) He turned and looked at her one last time. For the last time.

He sighed and ducked out of the tent. Madame Lulu was right. She did have customers waiting.

“Blimey! You took your sweet time, didn’t you! We have appointments, you know!” said an angry-looking man nearest to the entrance. Jacques did not engage him. He pulled his hat down and quickly brushed past him and the other carnival guests in an effort not to be recognized. He didn’t look back when he got to his taxi. There was a flyer stuck to the windshield. It read: “I HAD A GREAT DAY AT CALIGARI CARNIVAL!” He crumpled it up and put it in his pocket. And with that, he drove off, leaving Caligari Carnival in the dust.


End file.
